“Yes, ma’am, and again, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lon said, then left the house and headed back to the station.

He wanted this day over with. He wanted to go home and see Mercy’s beautiful face and laughing eyes and hear stories about her day at Granny’s. This day had been a kick in the gut.

His feet were dragging when he pulled in at the back of the jail and got out. It wouldn’t be long before they’d serve supper, but he was about to ruin Teddy and Brian Hollis’s appetites, and hated like hell that it had to be said.

He entered the booking area, and then opened the door into the jail and walked down to their cells.

Teddy stood.

“When are they coming to move us?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” Lon said. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m afraid I have bad news about your dad. There was a fire at the feed store today, and he didn’t make it. I’m really, really sorry, boys.”

Brian leaped off his bunk and grabbed the bars, screaming, “No! No! Oh my God!”

Tears were rolling down Teddy’s face. “Does Mama know?”

“She does now.”

Teddy staggered back to his bunk and dropped.

“We don’t have family here. What’s going to happen to her?” he asked.

“She wants to go home, and we’ll get her there because that’s what we do here in Blessings. We take care of our people. We don’t rob them. We don’t hurt them. We don’t steal what is theirs,” Lon said.

Then he walked out and went back to his office and called Mercy because he wanted to hear her sweet voice and be reminded of good in this world.

While Lon was calling his wife, Donna Hollis was calling her sister. She was trembling so hard it was difficult for her to hold the phone, and then she sat listening to it ring and ring before it went to voicemail.

Donna took a deep breath, then started talking.

“Joy, this is Donna. Something terrible has happened. Call me.”

Chapter 13

An hour later, Lon Pittman was still at the station, waiting for the coroner. But his thoughts were on the promise he’d made to Donna Hollis. It was going to take the cooperation of everyone in Blessings to raise enough money to get Arnold Hollis buried and Donna back home, and he knew exactly who to contact to get the ball rolling—Ruby Butterman.

Peanut Butterman’s wife was the hub of charity events in town, and she would be the one who could help him with this tragedy.

He glanced at the time, took a chance that the Curl Up and Dye might still be open, and called there first. The phone rang a few times, and then he got a breathless answer.

“Curl Up and Dye, this is Ruby.”